Deadpool and Breakfast
by Miznomer
Summary: The story of my avatar. Rated T only because of difficult language. Completely about Deadpool and what he feels about waffles. Funny and interesting. This can be both X-Men movie or Deadpool comic. Contains examples of a person you do not want to emulate.


Author's Note:

"" are to mark spoken words. '' are to mark thoughts.

Disclaimers are at the back to not spoil the story

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The Deadpool Breakfast

The Deadpool Breakfast marked the fateful day when Deadpool began his revolutionary and highly-controversial campaign against _**Waffles**_.

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If an extremely memorable event occurs, people are usually hazy about the details. They know all about the what and even the when, but then where and why usually remains a mystery. This story will free all of the ignorant people in the issue regarding The Deadpool Breakfast.

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Here was what happened. He got up not so early as to need coffee, but early enough to require chocolate milk. He brushed his teeth and talked himself into using his bubblegum flavoured toothpaste. The aftertaste of his chocolate milk lingered in his mouth even after he cleaned his teeth thoroughly. Then, he took a quick shower, not bothering with any soaps or shampoos. The water today was neither too hot nor too cold, he smiled as he recalled the story with the three bears, a golden haired girl and porridge from his memory. He wondered if the girl had enjoyed her breakfast and if anybody made gummy bear porridge. When he got out, his good mood improved even more as he plopped down in front of the television and watched Saturday morning cartoons. There were absolutely no progress reports about politics that were hijacking valuable cartoon spots. Life was good.

After a couple of hours, he began to feel hungry. Really really hungry. He had not noticed as he was so absorbed in how the superhero was going to prevent the heinous villain from stealing the entire world's supply of chunky peanut butter. It was pretty depressing. Personally, he had nothing against smooth peanut butter. However, it would be nice to be able to choose from at least two types of peanut butter, considering that he still had to live out the rest of his immortal life.

Anyway, his stomach refused to be ignored and nagged him by making disturbing sounds. Fortunately for his stomach, Deadpool was crazy enough to talk back.

"Hush! I'm watching this."

*gurgle*

"Just give me till the end of this show, ok?"

*rumbling moan*

"You owe me. Because of me, you never get indigestion!"

*loud rush of bubbles popping*

"Oh, come on. It'll take less than 10 more minutes."

*noises then are to disgusting to describe*

"Please, as a favour to me?"

*even louder*

"FINE! Just for that! I'll let your acids eat you from the inside out! See if I care! It's not going to kill me!"

*long pause…short growl*

"Ok. Ok. You're right. We're both just hungry and cranky. Let's go get something to eat."

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Deadpool walked to a diner near his apartment. He went in and sat down on one of the tall stools. Studying the menu, he murmured to himself as he read through the menu. After at least 15 minutes, a thoughtful waitress walked over and turned his menu right side up for him.

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What happened next set of a chain of events that have built upon each other, leading to The Deadpool Breakfast.

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Staring at the now-readable menu, he asked himself…"Hmmm…What would I like to have for breakfast?"

Deadpool opened his mouth and the words that were swimming inside his brain, sensed the opportunity to escape. They ran helter-skelter, nimbly ducking his teeth as well as protruding bits of shrapnel embedded inside of him. They slipped outside successfully without any injuries, for fear of becoming "broken English". Upon realizing the cold, cruel world of outside, they moved with impossible speed to go back in. This time through the ears. This incident caused him to voice his own thoughts and hear them without any idea of what had happened throughout the entire process.

He heard himself say in his own voice (because sometimes he heard other people say things in his voice, and even the occasional once or twice when he said something in the voices of other people). "I feel like a waffle! With butter! And ice-cream!"

'That's not right,' He thought. 'I don't feel anything like a baked good. Let alone one that's covered with sweet and salty goodness with an explosive number of calories, a figure that most would only want to see on their pay checks.'

He corrected himself. "What I meant was, I feel like I want to EAT a waffle." 'Mmmm…waffles. Waff. Wuff. Woof .Wooffle.'

By then it was too late, the grammatical error, puppy imagery and general mental instability connected together instantly and…"WAIT! What does a waffle feel like? Do they hurt?"

At this point he's getting really upset.

"***sob*** But…I…But I…But I don't understand!" He told the bewildered people staring at him.

"***Sob*** It's…just so…so sad. Cause…***SOB*** They are just…just…MADE to be eaten. To die! DIE! IN…In PAIN! PAAAAAAIIIIIINNNN! And…and…***sob***…"

The diner staff looked relieved that he was finally calming down, but they decided to hang back just in case he relapsed.

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When it looked as he wasn't not going to continue, the braver staff members went forward and carefully escorted him out of the diner.

It was when he was almost out the door when he saw the sign:

[ Waffles and Pancakes made fresh daily! ]

"NOOOOooooo….." he freed himself from the two men who were holding on to him and made his way back to his seat.

Despite everybody staring at him, he sat down and told the waitress: "Gladys (her name tag said Jenny), give me two pancakes with butter and maple syrup. Put in on my tab." Then he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially "Make it to go. You got some real creepy weirdo's here. They won't quit looking at me."

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A/N: This was inspired by something I made to use as an avatar.

Disclaimer: Deadpool belongs to Marvel. I only own this story and the ideas behind it.


End file.
